


the taste of winter

by foxinsocksinabox



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Forests, M/M, Mentions of other Shiratorizawa Characters, Oikawa does not appear but he's left his mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 01:56:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13377687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxinsocksinabox/pseuds/foxinsocksinabox
Summary: 10000 years later, another fic from a saso prompt, this one by milktea! i took a bingo square and ran very far with it...





	the taste of winter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [earlgrey_milktea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgrey_milktea/gifts).



> 10000 years later, another fic from a saso prompt, this one by milktea! i took a bingo square and ran very far with it...

No sooner had the bark melted away from Wakatoshi’s skin, than he felt him. 

“Who are you?” He asked flatly, opening his eyes. He turned his face upwards, towards the presence, to stare at the interloper reclining along a large branch some ten feet off the ground. 

Dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves. It was long enough past dawn that the birds had woken, but little else had yet begun to stir. Wakatoshi himself still felt the tug of sleep, coupled with the last dregs of slow, careful calm that was the centre of the oak, but he was not made to remain abed for so long. 

The intruder, in contrast, was markedly cheerful despite the early hour. 

“Good morning, Majesty!” he called. “I hope you slept well! I thought I’d come by early to catch you before you left on one of your treks, but well. Maybe I was a little overzealous.”

Wakatoshi blinked. “Please do not call me that.”

“Ahh, sorry, sorry.” The other figure swung himself off his perch, landing with sinewy grace. The fallen leaves beneath his feet barely rustled. “I’d heard the Oak King doesn’t like to stand on ceremony, but I didn’t want to be rude.”

When he straightened, Wakatoshi was somewhat surprised to see they were nearly matched for height. But a question still hung between them unanswered, and the delay was starting to irk him. 

“Who are you?” he said again, and the newcomer’s eyebrows jumped upwards to crease his forehead. 

“You can’t tell?” he asked. 

Wakatoshi was about to reply irritably, that if he’d known he wouldn’t have had to _ask_ , but just then the newcomer tilted his head. The sprig of leaves behind his ear, which Wakatoshi hadn’t noted closely, revealed itself to be sharply pointed, with red berries nestled in the centre, camouflaged against its wearer’s red hair. 

He felt himself stiffen with the realisation. “The Solstice is not for another month.” 

“So what am I doing here?” The Holly King filled in with a laugh. “Nothing, really. I just wanted to meet you properly, since we haven’t had the chance. I would have come sooner, but you know how it is! Kingdoms to run, subjects to placate.”

Oikawa had left the forest not long after the Spring Equinox. Wakatoshi had known, of course, that the forest must have chosen a successor- there had always been an Oak King and a Holly King, for as long as trees had blanketed the earth- but he had been too angry at Oikawa’s abandonment of his duties and too distracted by his own to pay much attention to what transpired in the Holly King’s domain.

“Anyway, I’m Tendou. I’ll be working alongside you from now until- well, for the foreseeable future! Let’s do our best, yeah?”

“...Yes,” Wakatoshi said. 

\----

“Doesn’t the Holly King have his own duties to attend to?”

Tendou chuckled. “At this time of year? Not really.”

Wakatoshi had his fingers buried in good, dark earth, and he didn’t really want to be distracted by conversation. A young maple tree, too young yet to have borne a spirit, had taken root in an area that often flooded during the autumn rains, wiping the area clean of anything not rooted strongly enough. He wanted to relocate it, to somewhere where it could grow and flourish. He could do that and put up with Tendou’s chatter simultaneously, but he wasn’t especially keen on the idea. 

Perhaps he could have asked the Maple spirits to look into it, but they were chiefly collected in the southern reaches of the forest and this one wasn’t far from his home tree. Wakatoshi would feel remiss in his duties if he delegated something so simple.  

A shuffle and thump told him that Tendou had come to kneel nearby. “May I help?”

Wakatoshi glanced at him. Helping might keep the Holly King quiet for a time, and Wakatoshi wasn’t averse to an extra pair of hands. 

Nodding, he tilted his head towards the young maple, standing tall and proud in its carefully squared block of soil. “You can bring the sapling here. Place it-”

“Ah, no, besides that.”

The Holly King sounded rueful, Wakatoshi thought, as he turned to frown at him. There was holly braided into his hair today; a circlet of dark, spiky green pulling the red locks back from his face. In response to Wakatoshi’s stare, Tendou raised a hand and twiddled his fingers. 

Frost sparkled in the air between them. Briefly, a chill brushed across Wakatoshi’s skin before it dissipated, replaced once more by summer warmth. 

"Ah," Wakatoshi said simply, glancing from the glimmer of ice to Tendou’s crooked grin. "I see."

He should have remembered. In his defence, Oikawa had never attempted to help him, on the rare occasions the previous Holly King had deigned to venture into Wakatoshi’s domain. He had been distracted, and had instead directed Tendou as he would one of the members of his Court. 

It was one thing for Tendou to interact with the older trees, the ones who had weathered at least one turn of the seasons. It was another for him to handle a plant this young and fragile. 

Rather than apologise for his oversight, Wakatoshi changed the subject. "Was there something you required?"

For this was the third time in a month that Tendou had appeared at Wakatoshi’s side, unannounced and unassuming. Wakatoshi would never presume to tell Tendou how to do his duty- but even Oikawa had always made himself busy during the summer months. 

Tendou just shrugged. "No," he said. "I was paying a visit to the birch colony on the other side of the ridge. I felt you out here as I came back, so I figured I’d stop to see how things are. Don’t you have people who could be doing this? Why is the Oak King himself moving trees?"

It took a moment for Wakatoshi to separate this into sections he could answer. "Things are fine," he said, deciding to tackle the points in order. "I do, and I am not moving all trees- only this one. It will not survive the winter if I do not. Is there something wrong with doing so?"

"No, no." Tendou rearranged himself cross-legged, and regarded Wakatoshi with his chin propped on one hand. There was a small, bemused smile tugging at his lips; Wakatoshi might have shared it, if he had been sure Tendou’s mirth didn’t come at his expense. "You’re just not at all like Oikawa, are you?"

Wakatoshi looked away. 

"No," he said, before getting to his feet. "I will fetch the maple, if you would please prepare the soil. I trust you will be able to judge the correct depth and width."

"Sure thing!"

\----

"King Ushijima!"

Goshiki, a young Elm spirit, was standing behind Wakatoshi when he turned; red-cheeked, but standing very straight. "I- I will do my best to win glory for you today!"

Wakatoshi blinked once, twice, before inclining his head gravely. “I see. You have my thanks. Good luck."

Flustered, Goshiki bowed deeply and strode away. When he was just barely out of earshot, Wakatoshi heard a familiar chuckle from behind him. "My, he’s an enthusiastic little fellow, isn’t he?"

"He is," he agreed. Tendou stepped up next to him, resplendent in formal robes and, for once, with the Holly Crown encircling his brow. The dark green leaves were a stark contrast to the fiery autumn blaze of their surroundings. 

Wakatoshi tilted his head in greeting, feeling his own crown of oak leaves and acorns sitting heavy on his brow. He didn’t much like wearing it, in truth. "Goshiki wishes to succeed me as Oak King someday."

"He does!" Tendou exclaimed, craning to peer after Goshiki’s retreating back. After a second, he huffed, resuming his normal slouch. "He may have a long wait, poor thing. You don’t plan to drop everything and run off into the sunset anytime soon, do you?"

Though it was phrased as a question, Tendou’s inflection wasn’t right for it- it wasn’t an actual query. Wakatoshi looked at him, only to meet Tendou’s amused look head on. He didn’t reply, a little unsettled by the casual familiarity of Tendou’s (correct) assumption- and they stood in mostly companionable silence for a long moment, until a lanky Ash spirit trotted up to them. 

"Satori!" he gripped Tendou’s elbow. Wakatoshi spared a moment to be startled at the use of what he must assume to be Tendou’s inner name. "Don’t just disappear like that, you’re meant to be speaking to the Firs!" The Ash seemed to notice Wakatoshi for the first time, then, and dipped into a bow. "King Ushijima, my apologies."

"Ahh, Ushijima, this is Semi. He’s my keeper." 

"Seneschal," the Ash corrected, looking annoyed. 

"Yes, that. Semisemi, can’t you speak to the Firs for me? You know I don’t deal with their drama very well."

Wakatoshi observed the exchange in puzzlement, as a peculiar heaviness settled in his chest. Their banter flowed with the ease of long habit, and Wakatoshi wasn’t blind to the fondness that laced it. 

He looked away, clasping his hands behind his back. Conveniently- for whom or what, Wakatoshi didn’t particularly want to think about- he noticed Oohira making his way through the crowd towards them.  

"If you will excuse me," Wakatoshi said to Tendou and Semi, who paused in their argument to look at him with surprise. "My seneschal is here as well. I must attend to my own duties." 

Semi sent a sharp elbow into Tendou’s ribs, as if to say _you see?_ Wakatoshi ignored it.

"Alright," Tendou said. He offered a hand, flashing a crooked grin. "May the best King win." 

It was the Autumn Equinox. No matter the outcome of the games their people played, Wakatoshi’s power would fade for the next six months, while Tendou became ascendant. Even so, Wakatoshi gripped Tendou’s hand firmly, meeting his eyes. 

"Yes. Good luck."

\----

“You know, I’ve been wondering. How old are you?”  

Wakatoshi glanced at Tendou, who was running his hand along a nearby branch. It had been months since the Holly King had started coming to visit, and evenings like this- Wakatoshi occupied with his own work, Tendou passing the time in easy conversation- were no longer unusual. Wakatoshi had started looking forward to them, almost. “I do not keep track.”

Tendou hummed, but his attention wasn’t on Wakatoshi. Instead, he paced a careful circle around the massive, gnarled oak that was Wakatoshi’s home tree, from which he had been born and to which he would one day return. If they linked hands, their arms wouldn’t make it halfway round the tree’s solid girth. 

Wakatoshi truly didn’t know how old he was. Yet he only had to look at his home tree, which had sprouted him when it was but a sapling itself, to realise that he had passed more seasons in the forest than most. 

The oak’s main branches could each have held two of him with space to spare. They were so heavy that gravity had slowly pulled them lower and lower, until they ran along the earth. It was always cool beneath his home tree’s shadow regardless of the changing seasons; the sunlight fractured and pale where it succeeded in breaking through the oak’s green canopy.

Yet even with so many years under her leaves, Wakatoshi couldn’t recall sitting like this with anyone else. Seeing the reverence on Tendou’s face made his skin prickle with a sensation he didn’t recognise, so he returned his attention instead to the carving in his hands. 

In time, Tendou sat down in the empty space to his right, leaning back on his palms as Wakatoshi worked carefully to bring a shape to life with his black glass blade. A proud buck was emerging slowly from the wood’s confines, not unlike how Wakatoshi pulled himself from the oak’s depths every morning at dawn. 

Tendou began to speak after awhile, undeterred by Wakatoshi’s silence. He angled himself until he could recline along the branch, shoulder pressed solidly into Wakatoshi’s, and gestured as he spoke- sketching shapes in the air that Wakatoshi could only guess at. 

Though he said little, Wakatoshi listened, focusing easier with a project in hand. He barely noticed the hours passing until dusk had made carving truly difficult, and then he realised that Tendou had at some point fallen into silence.

When he looked, Tendou was watching him with an expression that was part fond, part something else that Wakatoshi couldn’t place. 

“It’s getting late,” he said. “I should be getting back.”

“Yes.” Wakatoshi set his carving aside and stood, offering Tendou a hand to pull himself up. “Call the fireflies to assist you,” he suggested. “You should have no trouble now that it is past the Equinox.”

“I will.” 

Wakatoshi would have wished him goodnight then, except that Tendou had yet to stand up- and had not released his grip on Wakatoshi's hand. 

“Ushijima,” Tendou said, smiling. “I know you probably haven’t noticed, but… I do like you. I think we get along pretty well as Holly King and Oak King, don’t you? But even besides that, I like you.”

Wakatoshi said nothing. He didn’t know what _to_ say. His heart thudded once, twice, his insides twisting into new and interesting configurations. 

“I’d like to kiss you sometime, too, if you’d like me to. Ahh, but I can tell I’ve scared you off. Just think about it, alright?”

“I’m not afraid,” Wakatoshi said, eyebrows pulling down into a frown- and Tendou threw back his head in a laugh. 

“No,” he replied. “Of course you’re not."

Now, Tendou stood. But since Wakatoshi hadn’t moved, this brought him solidly into Wakatoshi’s personal space; enough that Wakatoshi could smell the bright, sweet scent of holly blossoms. They stood for a moment, Tendou meeting his eyes steadily, before he smiled, gave Wakatoshi’s palm a final press, and let go. 

“Think about it,” he requested again, stepping away. “I’ll be around.”

And he was gone. 

\----

Wakatoshi couldn’t have disobeyed if he tried. 

_ ”I’d like to kiss you sometime, too, if you’d like me to.” _

“-ijima? Ushijima.” Wakatoshi stiffened, turning to meet Oohira’s amused look. “You weren’t listening to me at all, were you?”

“... No.” The admission felt rather like pulling teeth. “I apologise. I am… distracted.”

“So I see.” Oohira said, eyeing him. Then, with a quiet sigh, the Pine spirit put a hand on Wakatoshi’s arm and steered him into the close space between two trees. “Would you like to finish the strengthening another day? I know it takes it out of you, and you’re not usually so unfocused.” 

Though Wakatoshi prickled a little at the implication that he couldn’t carry out his duties, he tamped down on his first, automatic reply. After a beat, in which he drew a deep, expansive breath, he sighed. “We’ll continue until the river,” he suggested quietly, glancing away. “And I will complete the rest tomorrow.”

Oohira nodded. “That sounds fine. Just-” he hesitated, then patted Wakatoshi’s arm in a slightly awkward gesture. “If you need to talk about it, let me know, yeah?”

“I will,” Wakatoshi said. 

The strengthening was an old magic, and one which Wakatoshi usually enjoyed, even he did a lot of his work by hand. Opening himself up to the flow of life in the forest around him, he sank tendrils of power into the earth like roots; sent it streaming out of his fingers to anchor in everything green and gold and _living_.

On ordinary days, the animals and the plant spirits knew that Wakatoshi preferred to be left alone. But during the autumn strengthening, much like in spring, they came in droves. Rabbits emerged from their burrows and foxes from their dens; the herds of deer mingled with wolf packs in a rare detente, as Wakatoshi gave them the strength they would need to last the winter. 

Even now, despite his distraction, he relished the warmth that the magic always left him with; the honey sweetness lingering on his tongue. Some of these creatures, great and small, would not last the snows. But their bodies would return to the earth to sleep, and in time would give life to more in an endless cycle. 

Wakatoshi breathed out a fine golden mist and froze, suddenly, as he caught sight of a red-and-green figure standing between the trees, a tall Ash spirit at his side. 

The magic dimmed and surged, affected by his distraction, as Tendou watched him with a small, peculiar smile curving his lips. As Wakatoshi stared, unable for once to read any mirth in Tendou's smile, he bowed- deeper than was warranted, more a supplicant to a king than a bow of equals- and turned away, vanishing with Semi on his heels. 

Wakatoshi closed his hands into fists, cutting off the magic to his people. When Oohira came to him, brow creased in worry, he just shook his head. 

\----

Tendou stopped coming. 

It wasn’t that different from when Oikawa had been the Holly King; before he had left the forest behind to be with his human hunter. Wakatoshi was alone on days when he did not have duties, and as the weather turned colder those days were more common now than they had been before. He understood that Tendou would be busy- but still, some small, selfish part of him still wished for company as he carved. 

Wakatoshi had been good at being alone. Now, after so many days of Tendou meandering along at his side, of cheerfully one-sided conversations, of companionship- it seemed Wakatoshi had forgotten how to avoid loneliness.

Or perhaps, he thought suddenly one evening, he had just never noticed how lonely he was in the first place. 

\----

The Winter Solstice came and went. One day, Wakatoshi emerged from the heart of his home tree, only to see- white. White, everywhere. 

It was an early first snow.  

Many of his fellow tree spirits-- at least, the ones who had lost their leaves-- would sleep now, waking only periodically until the winter snows retreated. Many of the animals had already grown fat in preparation for the long sleep, returning to their dens until spring arrived once more.

Above him, his home tree’s leaves whispered their secrets, for oaks kept their leaves for winter, and Wakatoshi would stay awake with it. 

But as he stared out at the pristine blanket covering everything beyond the protective reach of his tree, Wakatoshi suddenly couldn’t face the long, cold months with the same fortitude as he’d had all those years. 

He’d never once visited the Holly King’s domain. He’d never seen a need to. 

There was no concrete border between them, but when Wakatoshi drew close enough, he felt the change almost immediately. This, he realised, was how Tendou could find him so often and so easily. He could feel the tug in his chest leading him towards the Holly King, truer than any human compass.

He turned himself in the direction of the pull, and started walking. 

\----

He found Tendou beneath a copse of evergreens, an uncharacteristically dark scowl on his face. Semi stood in front of him, gesturing emphatically about something Wakatoshi couldn’t make out.  

Tendou was in the midst of shaking his head when he caught sight of Wakatoshi over Semi’s shoulder. His face melted into surprise. 

“Ushijima?” 

Even though he’d come for the express purpose of speaking to Tendou, Wakatoshi couldn’t help feeling somewhat wrong-footed by the weight of that acknowledgement. He pulled himself taller to disguise his sudden uncertainty, schooling his face as much into impassivity as he could. 

Tendou had brushed Semi off, crossing the distance between them in great strides. Wakatoshi could feel the difference the season had wrought- Tendou’s presence was like a physical weight on his chest, and he held himself differently to when he’d crouched next to Wakatoshi as they carefully planted a maple. 

“Ushijima, what are you doing here?” Tendou asked, drawing close enough to brush a hand against Wakatoshi’s elbow. “Are you alright? Is something wrong?”

His concern was pleasing, if unnecessary. Wakatoshi fought the urge to fidget, and inclined his head. “Everything is… fine. May I speak with you in private?”

Tendou’s frown shifted into something more puzzled, as he nodded. “Of course.”

But as Tendou turned to dismiss Semi, Wakatoshi’s felt his heart speed in his chest. What was he here for? What did he want to discuss? Now that Tendou had agreed, Wakatoshi had to face the fact that he hadn’t thought any further than this; he didn’t know how to proceed from here. 

Semi had slipped away quietly with a nod that Wakatoshi was too distracted to return. The Ash spirit’s pale colouring blended into the winter-bleached scenery, until Wakatoshi and Tendou were alone in the snow and silence. 

When Tendou returned to his side, Wakatoshi said nothing. His hands were freezing, icy with a cold that had nothing to do with the winter air burning in his lungs. 

Finally, Tendou ventured, “Have I ever showed you my home tree?”

“No,” Wakatoshi said, grateful for the distraction. 

Tendou smiled but said nothing further. He led the way, deeper into the cluster of evergreens, past rockfalls and a small, frozen stream. Wakatoshi could not recall ever having been to this part of the forest; it needed his strength in summer much less than its deciduous counterparts. 

Finally, Tendou stopped in front of a tall holly, bristling with dark leaves and studded here and there with glistening red berries. He made a flourishing gesture (“Tada!”) but Wakatoshi knew him well enough by now to read anxiety in his curled posture; nerves in the sharp glance he shot Wakatoshi, searching for approval. 

Wakatoshi, for his part, was mostly surprised. 

“You’re a Holly spirit,” he said quietly, turning to stare at Tendou anew. “I had not realised.”

Tendou snorted. “Really?” he said. “I thought it was kind of obvious. But it is a little funny, that the forest actually has proper Oak and Holly Kings this time around.”

“The title does not exclude other tree spirits, it is simply-”

“I know _that_ ,” Tendou interrupted, with a bemused smile. “I mean, King Oikawa definitely wasn’t a Holly spirit.”

Wakatoshi blinked, but the name didn’t elicit any feeling, other than perhaps a faint stirring of nostalgia. Looking intently at Tendou, he said slowly, “No. He wasn’t.”

This time, it was Tendou’s turn to look away. 

And Wakatoshi had never pretended to be good at parsing emotions- he loved his role and his duties, but he often found interacting with the other denizens of the forest tiring at best, frustrating at worst. Tendou had never been like that. Tendou had pushed, but never too far; placed himself in Wakatoshi’s space without ever pressing him until Wakatoshi was the one to bridge the gap. 

He was, perhaps, Wakatoshi’s only friend besides Oohira- and even as Wakatoshi thought it, he knew it wasn’t quite right. He didn’t miss Oohira’s presence as he did Tendou’s. He didn’t think about the press of Oohira’s hands, didn’t turn his head at the faintest smell of pine needles the same way he chased the ghostly scent of holly blossoms. 

He didn’t want Tendou as just a friend. 

_ ”I’d like to kiss you sometime, too, if you’d like me to.” _

“Ushijima, was there something you needed to talk to me about? Sorry, I know I haven’t been around much lately, but-”

“I’d like you to.”

Tendou stopped mid-sentence, and Wakatoshi watched as his red eyebrows slowly knit themselves together in the middle of his forehead. “What?”

His heart was thudding loudly, an insistent drumbeat. He swallowed. 

“I’d like you to kiss me. And call me Wakatoshi. I’ve been thinking about it. And I would like it very much.”

Tendou was staring, Wakatoshi realised, through the pounding in his ears. He focused on keeping his breath even, but he was failing- it was difficult to maintain calm when he wanted this so _much_ \- more than he could ever remember wanting anything in his long, long life. 

And then Tendou started to grin- and then to laugh. Wakatoshi barely had a moment for his stomach to drop away entirely before Tendou’s hands were on either side of his face, a cold nose brushing his. 

“I thought you’d never want me,” Tendou confided, the joy in his voice not quite covering the way it shook. He pressed their foreheads together, and Wakatoshi breathed in the sweetness of holly. “I figured, there was no harm in trying, right? And then when I saw you at the strengthening, you were all light and life and beauty and I just- I could never. I’m not any of that.”

Wakatoshi frowned, and slid his hands gently around Tendou’s waist. “I do not want that. You- you do not need to be anyone other than who you are.”

He didn’t know how to say that Tendou was the cold that tested them all; the promise of a challenge that made them all work so hard to be strong, to live. Tendou was rejuvenation and hibernation, the calm of deepest sleep. There was no Oak King without a Holly King, and so had the two been linked since time immemorial.    


All those thoughts and more pushed at his lips, but the words slipped from his grasp. Still, Tendou seemed to grasp at least some of it, because he smiled- the wide, happy smile that Wakatoshi had longed for when it was gone. 

“So sweet,” he said, brushing cold fingers against Wakatoshi’s cheek. “Wakatoshi.” 

And Wakatoshi leaned down the scant inch between them to kiss his Holly King, whose lips tasted of frost, and danger, and the lingering promise of spring. 

Wakatoshi had never felt so warm. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on twitter [here!](http://www.twitter.com/foxrocksyrsocks)


End file.
